fiction

I’m delighted to be joined by Samantha Winston. She is with me today to share a little from her latest erotic adventure Time Tracking.

Over to you Samantha…

Hi Kay, and thank you for having me as a guest blogger! I’m really pleased to be here today to talk about my favourite thing : (well, favourite thing besides chocolate!) time-travel!

What would happen if a man from the past were brought to life in the present – a man frozen for centuries..? That’s what happens when Kell’s body is found in the Arctic, sold to the US Army, and reanimated in an ultra-secret base in Alaska (that everyone knows about). In order to communicate, the army hires Allie, an expert in ancient languages. But the scientists don’t want Kell as an anthropological case – they want to study his brain and body for cryogenics. Not good news for Kell, who is basically a prisoner about to be executed. Allie decides to save him, and they set out in the Arctic with nothing but some high-tech snowsuits (thank you, US Army corps) and Kell’s knowledge of survival in the wilderness.

In the second part of the book, Bruce Steele, a tracker, wakes up in the far future. He’s been reanimated on a space station, somewhere in the Hera Galaxy. He’s alone – except for a very sexy, extremely pedantic android who is supposed to teach him all about modern society – except how can he concentrate with a raging hard-on? Apparently, when you’ve been frozen and thawed out – your extremities tingle…the scientists will be fascinated with that bit of info. Until then, Steele, a game tracker, has to find a niche in an ultra-sophisticated technological world!

Time travel has always been my favourite subject – The Road to Alexander, published by Accent Press, is about a woman sent back to ancient Greece to interview Alexander the Great. So when I read about a man found in a glacier, and nearly intact, my mind started buzzing. Wouldn’t it be incredible to have him wake up and tell us about his life in the past? But how could he communicate? And from there, I imagined the story of Kell and Allie. But because I grew fond of the man tracking them, Bruce Steele, I made a story just for him, where he’s flung into the future and has to face the same sort of culture-shock Kell, the man from the Iron Age, did.

Excerpt: Kell sat still, his eyes taking in her every move. As before, some things seemed familiar, while others made no sense. The brazier had a collapsible tube that fit into a hole in the tent. That made sense since smoke was a problem for tents. This brazier was made of white metal and stood on three sturdy legs. All that he had seen before. But this brazier had another, smaller tube that ran from the brazier to a small blue jug. The jug had a handle that turned, and a blue flame sprang from the top of the brazier so suddenly that Kell flinched.Allie turned and patted his arm. “I’m sorry. All this must seem so strange to you.”He closed his eyes. Strange was not the word. Everything he had known had become twisted and bizarre. Familiar things had mutated into frightening machines. Even horses had turned into rumbling machines that belched stinking fog and had one bright eye. No, that was untrue. He knew what was machine and what was alive. His world had its share of machines, but none that ran by themselves. A shiver ran over his body. Blindly, he put out his hand toward the warmth of the brazier. Fire still gave warmth.His hand brushed against soft skin and he froze. Eyes still closed, he ran his fingertips over Allie’s brow, over her cheeks and across her jaw. He drew a line with his fingers, following her neck to where her pulse beat strongly. She caught his hand in hers, holding it tightly. Pulling her to him, he pressed his lips to the soft skin on her temple. Her curly hair tickled his face, but he didn’t open his eyes.The feel of a woman…that hadn’t changed. The scent and taste of women hadn’t changed. A deep sigh escaped him as warmth crept into his bones. Soft and sweet, and strong and brave. “Allie,” he whispered. The tent leaned, buffeted by the wind, but the brazier warmed the air, and he opened his eyes to stare at the woman who had saved him from the prison.“What is it?” Her big brown eyes were questioning. Her lashes cast jagged shadows on her cheeks.“Thank you.” He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him.
A little hesitantly, she put her arms around his shoulders. “You’ve got such broad shoulders,” she said, a catch in her voice.He tugged at her chemise and lifted it over her head, then stopped, perplexed. He had seen brassieres like hers in Rome, but they’d been made of knitted wool. This one was made of silk that stretched like a supple skin. She took it off, a smile curving her lips. Then she stood and slipped off her pants.In the pale, blue light of the brazier, her skin took on the glow of polished marble. “You look like the statue of a nymph.” He got to his knees and cupped her buttocks in his hands. Holding her tightly, he pressed his face to her sex, letting the smell and feel of her soothe his shattered nerves.

Bio

Samantha Winston is the pen name for author Jennifer Macaire. Sam writes stories to warm your heart and…no, not really – she writes steamy hot sex that will make your heart pound and sweat pour down your chest – whatever you do, don’t read them at work! You’ve been warned – find a comfy chair, keep a cold drink handy, and warn your significant other that he’s about to be ravished. Those are the kind of books Samantha writes!

I’m on the road again- or I will be on Friday 23rd September- with my dear friend, Kd Grace.

We’ll be at one of our favourite places- the Sh! Women’s Store in Hoxton, London, giving an erotica writing masterclass from 5.30pm.

Have you ever fancied having a go at erotica writing? Have you given it a try, but can’t quite get those paragraphs finessed? You really want to have a go, but the words involved make you blush? Then Kd and I will be there to help.

Why not join us for 2 hours of fun and imagination busting wordage, in the inspirational surrounds of London’s friendliest sex toy emporium!!

All you need is pen and paper, an imagination, and a sense of humour (No one can write erotica without a sense of humour!)

All the details can be found here- including location and booking details.

I’m delighted to welcome a newcomer to the world of erotica today. Kate J White is Xcite Books latest signing…and she is a girl on a mission of sexual discovery!

Over to you Kate…

Thank you so much to Kay Jaybee for inviting me to her blog, I’m honoured and thrilled to be here…

I’m somewhat like Kay’s main character in “The Collector” – I collect and write the stories about what went on last night, which seem too fantastical to be true. And they all really did happen… You see, although I am a writer and a passionate one, I don’t work as an author. I wrote the book from my heart, soul and (ok) loins, but it wasn’t a book at first. It was a little collection of dog-eared love notes, a stash of memories of steamy nights in a tropical climate, the recollection what it felt like to have sex with Channing Tatum’s lookalike, and what it was really like to bed a vain male escort with a huge cock.

As a married mother with a full time job and all the usual chores to organise around the house, I couldn’t quite believe what a remarkable life I was leading. So I started writing it down, knowing full well that I myself may otherwise start believing I had made it all up. I had no particular desire to tell anyone, but my fear was that it would disappear without a trace.

I didn’t write about things I wanted to do or fantasised about, I wrote about what I did (and still do…). And one day, the sheer volume of notes and scraps of stories had grown to the extent that I had to organise them. And a book was born, the love child of friends, lovers and partners who may or may not recognise themselves.

What I have found most astonishing is that although my affairs have been of the “no strings attached” type, in surprisingly many cases, a strong enduing friendship has remained. In some cases, the object of my affection left London, sometimes we just weren’t compatible as lovers in the medium term, and from others it was a more gradual cooling as life’s other strands pulled harder. No hard feelings, but mutual respect and the shared memories to giggle at. And every time a relationship shifts, there is warmth left, enough to smile and be happy about the time we had.

And then… the Big Passion is just around the corner. Who is it? What’s his game? What will he do to rock my world in a way that few people experience more than a handful times in their lives? Make my knees weak, my inner core melt and bring his own unique twist to the games we play. Bring me to places I’ve never been, kiss me as the sun rises over new unexplored beaches and make me see my own body and life through a new, brighter lens.

Whomever you are, I can see you walking towards me in the sunlight. I’m waiting for you. Kiss me, please, and turn my world upside down again.

My true erotic adventures “Tough Love” is out this week from Xcite books, this is a short excerpt:

“The total focus, the knowledge that there was nothing more ahead for me than what his whims dictated, whether excruciating pain or dissolving pleasure until the two met and made my head explode. I was sure he had grown to love the game, the ritual and my complete surrender. It made things even better that he knew others would take significant risks to get close to me, but maybe none of them would have achieved the loyalty, sacrifice, and willingness to suffer he could extract from me in that moment.

‘Well, do you understand how much you will suffer tonight? Do you agree you must be punished for being away from your Master for such a long time? Do you?’ I could only nod a weak answer in my confusion, among the chaos inside me. ‘Speak up, I can’t hear you! Do you understand that I must show you what happens when you don’t show respect, when you neglect your duties?’

I managed a high pitched but faint ‘Yes.’

It was met by, ‘Yes, what? Are we back at square one again, have you forgotten how this works? Huh?’

‘Yes, Master, I am sorry.’ I wasn’t sure if I was sorry for having been away, for not addressing him correctly, or maybe for myself. It was not unlike a confession. With the pain of admitting some sort of guilt, promises of penitence, and the suffering through punishment to reach the subsequent sweet relief of forgiveness and joy. It was the eternal human struggle for improvement. Improvement, abdication of responsibility, and the ability to move on despite the pain and despair of a wretched life. I was allowed to feel bad, for no particular reason or many, and there was forgiveness and blessings to be had if I survived the struggle through purgatory. At that moment, that was my only goal – survival or extinction, but even the latter was better than never having entered the realm of my Master. If you had asked me what my name was, I wouldn’t have known.

He gave a hard slap across my face, then stepped away. I couldn’t stand straight; I was reeling after nearly drowning in the onslaught of terror mixed with an almost tangible sense of his fingers opening all padlocks deep inside my brain, no key needed. I had a premonition of his hardness conquering my softness, forcing me to come almost immediately as he entered me, just as he could always predict, proving his supremacy, my spasms milking his hard cock until he let go as well. He stood a metre away and watched the external signs of my struggle. The mind is a wondrous thing; he didn’t have to do much but he knew my body and desires so well and how I couldn’t prevent losing myself before he even laid a finger on me. A few moments – he didn’t need more to see where I was, and he must have loved it so much.

A light palm on my shoulder, a hoarse whisper in the other ear. ‘Don’t you dare come until I tell you, whore. Don’t you dare, do you understand?’

At the same time as I swallowed and responded too quickly, ‘OK, yes, no, I won’t, Master,’ with a teary voice, he firmed his grip up, now bone-deep. I stiffened my leg muscles to withstand the push as he leaned forward and thrust his free hand into the little triangle of nylon between my legs. Cruelly, he slipped two fingers along my cleft to confirm how he was winning. No use trying to prevent him. I didn’t fight; I only inhaled deeply and dreaded his judgement.

‘Ah, you slut! So wet after a few words, standing here offering yourself with a dripping pussy …’ He added a third finger and greedily plunged in. I had to grab hold of his upper arm and shoulder not to fall over, and the combination of brute force, stimulation of my most sensitive spot, and humiliation was overwhelming. The pounding of my G-spot was deliberate and exquisite. I whimpered and sought solace with my forehead against my torturer’s chest and neck, the contact between our bodies reassuring but at the same time signifying surrender. My clit was being teased by his thumb. God, he was good. Concentrated on the task at hand, it didn’t take long for his treatment to have me writhing and wailing in a way I was embarrassed about but couldn’t stop.

‘You want to come, don’t you, slut?’ The sudden slap of the waistband as he left me open, throbbing, fighting. Still wet, his thumb and forefinger pinched my left nipple through my bra until I drew in breath. He proceeded to push the cup aside to tug, pull, and nail-pinch the pink bud until he read from the signs of my body that I was reaching the level of pain he desired. He let go, grabbed me by the hair, and kissed me, hard. Usually, he saved that sign of closeness and tenderness until later when he needed to soothe pain. I took it as a sign that he had really missed me.”

Brief description of book:

“Tough Love is an erotic memoir of a married woman, a mother and business executive, who together with her husband decides to have an open marriage after many years together. The resulting adventures are both expected: exciting sex, strange characters and suspicious neighbours, and unexpected: male escorts sharing their wares for free, wedding invitations where she’s slept with both bride and groom and some remarkable friendships. The story is a declaration of love to London and its people, and all of it is true – it really happened.”

Bio:

Kate lives in London with her husband and children. By day she is a successful business executive, by night an active participant in the exciting sexual adventures London has to offer. Oh, and she writes about it on the train to work or in bed with one of her lovers.

My lovely friend, Bella Settera is here today- and it’s cowboys all the way…Hold on tight!!

Q. Red-Light Wrangler is the second book in The Men of Moone Mountain Series. How come it’s a MM story whereas the first was MMF?

A. The Men of Moone Mountain are a mixed bunch, some gay, some bi and even some straight! It is a very open-minded community where no-one worries too much about their neighbor’s sexuality so anything goes.

Each book in the series is written as a stand-alone novel, so you don’t have to read the whole series to understand each book, although some of the same characters will crop up in each of the books. Rich Buchanan appeared in Menage on Moone Mountain and I really wanted to give him his own story.

Q. Was this your first MM or ManLove story?

A. Red-Light Wrangler was my first full-length MM novel, although I did have a gay couple of pirates in Secrets of the Siren (Siren Publishing), which was fun to write.

I enjoyed the challenge of writing Rich Buchanan and Nate Walker as both vulnerable and alpha-male at the same time, and would certainly write other MM characters in the future.

Q. Will there be any other MM pairings in The Men of Moone Mountain series?

A. Not yet. Book three in the series, Ménage on Ryder Ranch is a MFM story, and the book after that, Ménage at the Mode Boutique is another MMF, as was the first book in the series, Ménage on Moone Mountain, which has been my most popular novel so far. I wouldn’t rule it out, though 😉

Q. As a British author, how hard is it to write about ranches and to set your stories in America? It must be a totally different culture for you.

A. Indeed. This is a question I am often asked and a very good point. I do a lot of research into ranching and have learned a lot about the day-to-day functioning of American ranches, just so I can add the ‘normalities’ into my stories. A lot of information is available in books and on the internet, and I also have friends in the States who have experience of working on ranches, families who own them, and a few who have had working holidays on dude-ranches (they’re great for the nitty-gritty gossip about what really goes on as well as the ‘inner-workings’!) 😉

Also, writing stories relies mostly on using the imagination, and as authors we often set our novels in unreal and fantastic worlds. For instance, there would be no sci-fi novels if we all had to rely on going into space or time-travel in order to write them; and shape-shifters and werewolves might be unheard of without an author’s imagery. Then there are vampires, fairies, all things supernatural and paranormal, the list goes on and on. Basically all stories require a certain amount of creativity – the skill comes from drawing a reader into our world and making them believe, even for a short while, that they have been transported to another place

Q. Are your characters based on anyone in real life?

A. Hmm, that would be telling!!!! Actually, although it would be wrong of me to write about anyone who could be recognizable in any of my stories, I do find myself picking ‘aspects’ of people to add to my fictional cast. For instance, the handsome looks of an actor’s face might merge with the great body of model, while a friend’s mannerisms or accent might mingle with the vulnerability or humor of someone else. Even then, when it seems I have constructed the ideal hero or heroine, I like to throw in a few flaws just to make them a little imperfect – that’s how they get their character and make them relatable and interesting, in my book(s). J

***

Can a bad reputation hide a good heart?

After realizing everyone he has been with only wanted him for his money, Rich Buchanan, the billionaire’s son, gives up the dream of a serious relationship and gets his kicks sleeping around. He prefers men, but he only brings home women, since his father would be horrified to find out Rich was gay. But secrets are hard to keep among the rich, and his antics soon earn him the nickname “The Red-Light Wrangler” when people discover that money exchanges hands whenever he sleeps with a guy.

When Nate Walker starts work as Assistant Foreman at the Buchanan Ranch, his good looks and gorgeous body immediately pique Rich’s interest. And despite the gossip, Nate can’t help falling for him, either. But when Rich’s cousin Joey decides to blackmail Rich to pay off his debts, he soon realizes he could get much more out of the situation. Outing his gay cousin and causing a rift between Rich and his father could be just the thing to secure his own position as Frank Buchanan’s sole heir.

Rich has no one to turn to but his lover. But Nate has secrets of his own, and his reasons for being at the ranch are not entirely honorable…

Story Excerpt

“Sorry to hear about your dad, Rich.” Kent Freeman, the Deputy Sheriff, stood there with a grim expression on his face. “Mind if I come in?”

Rich stood back, allowing the tall, handsome guy into his house. He had expected him to go straight into the office, but Kent turned into the sitting room where his eyes went directly to the small table. Shit!

Rich felt his stomach lurch as Kent stared down at the note. “This arrive today?”

“Yeah. I just found it in the mailbox.” Rich frowned. He had expected Kent to be surprised by the note, but he seemed to take it in his stride.

“Mind if I get it fingerprinted?” Kent asked, not even touching the paper.

Rich shrugged. “Be my guest. You know who it’s from?”

Kent sighed as he put on a glove before placing the note in a plastic bag he pulled from his back pocket. “Do you?”

“I’ve got my suspicions,” Rich replied.

“Let me guess. Your cousin Joey or Cole Jackson?”

Rich gawped at him. “How in hell do you know that?”

“You should’ve come to us right at the beginning,” Kent admonished. “Could’ve saved everyone a lot of time and trouble.”

“You took Cole Jackson in about the poisoning, said you couldn’t pin anything on him,” Rich reminded him. “Anything after that would just sound like sour grapes.”

Rich sighed. “Kent, you know how it is. I’m gay, man. Dad’ll go mad if he finds out. I’ll lose everything.” He slumped into the nearest armchair, and Kent followed suit in the one opposite.

“Being gay ain’t a crime, Rich, but blackmail is. And so is poisoning horses.”

“I know, but Dad won’t see it that way. He’ll disown me, I know he will. Joey knows it, too.”

“That’s what he’s banking on,” Kent agreed. “But you’ve lost half your livestock because of this. And if you can’t prove you didn’t do it yourself you won’t even get the insurance pay out.”

Rich took a swig of his whiskey. “So, will this prove I didn’t do it?” He gestured to the note which the deputy had put in his pocket.

Kent Freeman shook his head. “Nope. I’m afraid it just gives you a motive.”

***

Extract

Suddenly Rich grabbed hold of Wyatt’s muscular arms and pulled him down onto the bed. He got up and stood over him, yanking the blond guy’s long, hairy legs over his shoulders. He heard a loud gasp as he hauled him down the bed to get a better position.

Wyatt grabbed a condom from the nightstand and passed it up to Rich. He snatched it out of his hand and grinned when he opened it. Ribbed. He rolled the rubber onto his pulsating dick and yanked the guy’s hairy ass open. He heard a yelp, but paid him no heed. He watched Wyatt screw his eyes shut and barked at him. “Look at me!”

Wyatt’s eyes shot open and he stared up at him. Rich had a sense of satisfaction at his control. He lined his cock up to the gaping asshole and stared into Wyatt’s eyes as he thrust past the tight rim.

“Aah!” Wyatt’s panicked eyes seemed to glaze over and his jaw tensed.

Rich massaged the guy’s ass with one hand, while stroking his cock with the other until Wyatt’s face relaxed. Then he pumped hard into him, eliciting another loud yell. The cowboy’s shouts soon became excited as the pain must have morphed to pleasure and he began grunting with each thrust. Rich grinned as he pounded hard into the guy’s ass. He needed this. He closed his eyes and Nate Walker’s face flashed into his mind. He felt himself grinning as he thrust harder and harder, visualizing Nate lying naked before him, Nate groaning in ecstasy.

When Rich opened his eyes they were watery and glazed. All he could see was a mass of blond hair on the bed and, with his mind still on Nate Walker, he moaned loudly. He felt the body beneath him thrusting back toward him and heard fevered yelps and groans. The fire in his belly was roaring now and he felt like his whole body was a raging furnace. He hammered hard into the ass under him, yanking on the dick in his hand. With a loud grunt the body he was fucking convulsed and he felt cum like boiling lava trailing down his hand. His own orgasm wracked him and he pounded hard into the guy’s ass, over and over. Lights flashed in front of his eyes and he heard himself roar as relief swept through him. He just kept thrusting until he was finally satisfied. His breathing was rampant as he slunk onto the bed next to his partner, and he felt the cool air wash over his sweating body.

Both men lay in silence, heaving at the air, eyes closed for several minutes. Rich’s eyes opened slowly and he stared at the face next to his. For a split second he had actually expected to see Nate Walker lying there, but realized in horror that it wasn’t. While Wyatt’s eyes were still closed, Rich shot to his feet and grabbed his clothes before heading off to find the bathroom down the hall. He disposed of the condom and splashed cold water over his face and torso. His breathing was still rapid and he took a glass of water to try to recover himself. Pulling his clothes back onto his still-sweaty body felt horrid, and he left his shirt unbuttoned, hoping that the cold night air would cool him off a bit.

His head automatically faced the bedroom when he retreated from the bathroom, but he thought better of it. Like a thief in the night he made for the front door and slipped out. The cold night air bit him hard, and he shivered as he climbed into his car. Opening the windows wide he relished the freezing cold of the wind as it swept through his hair and over his flushed body. He needed the cold. He needed the space.

In Bella’s world all the heroes are gorgeous hunks and the heroines are always beautiful. Having said that, she firmly believes that ‘handsome is as handsome does’ and that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’. (She is also a big fan of clichés as well as alliteration!)

She has been hanging out with her ‘imaginary friends’ for a couple of years now and finds the profession exhilarating and intriguing. Her stories are all Erotic Romances, although they vary considerably in subject-matter.

She loves writing Cowboy Romances and was thrilled when the first book in her The Men of Moone Mountain series, (Etopia Press), entitled Ménage on Moone Mountain, received a nomination for the Ménage Romances Fan’s Award 2015 and became an ARe Bestseller, and the third book in this series, Ménage on Ryder Ranch was also nominated for the Erotic Ménages Romances 2016 . The fourth book in this series, Ménage at the Mode Boutique is now also available in digital format. She is currently writing another Cowboy series, Midnight in Montana (Siren Publishing), the first of which, Dallas at Midnight, is already available, with the second, Meet Me at Midnight due for release in June 2016.

Her Collar and Cuffs series (Etopia Press) also received an ARe Bestseller Award for Waiting on Summer, which has also been nominated for the BDSM Writers Con Golden Flogger Award2016. This series was set in a BDSM club in Miami, and was a joy to write.

When Theo Samuels heads off to film on location in the village of Stoneydale, he’s expecting drama to take place on camera, not off. But when he meets gorgeous local lad, Eddie Henderson, he struggles to ignore his attraction. A relationship between the two of them would be utterly impractical, yet they’re drawn together nonetheless. Can they overcome the seemingly endless hurdles between them? Or is their fling destined to remain as just that?

Note: Love on Location has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: On Boys boxed set.

Theodore Albert Samuels strode through Stoneydale Hall, barely giving the opulent furnishings, the priceless art or the stunning architecture a second glance. It belonged to him, after all. It was all his, his birthright, his inheritance.

He stopped suddenly. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, hoping none of the film crew were taking any notice of him. Looking over, it appeared they were still absorbed in figuring out lighting, props and where the actors should stand to get the best shots. Good—he wasn’t due to have a camera pointed at him for another two days; plenty of time to get his head around his role. And it was imperative he did—it was his biggest and highest profile part to date. If he got this right, it could truly launch his career. Maybe even into Oscar-winning territory.

Taking several deep breaths, he pulled himself up to his full height of 6ft 4” and adopted a haughty, disinterested manner—channelling Mr Darcy, perhaps? Either the one from Pride and Prejudice or Bridget Jones’ Diary would do.

I am William Arthur Stoneydale. And this property is mine.

They’d pretty much been given the run of the house—the real owners having gone to the south of France for the summer—so Theo continued marching around, upstairs and down, pulling in everything he could from his surroundings to make him truly feel like lord of the manor.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his mop of black curls and headed out into the gardens. They were beautiful; all manicured lawns, parterres, rose gardens, arches and perfectly placed shrubs. Despite the perfection, Theo felt more comfortable here—probably because he’d always been an outdoorsy sort, ever since he was a child. Only the strict yet loving influences of his parents had coaxed him inside to do his homework, study for his exams and eventually land himself a place at The Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, better known as RADA.

The latter had been completely his choice—his mother and father had only wanted him to work hard and do his best. His career options had not been chosen by them, only supported.

Slumping onto a bench, Theo reminded himself of his parents’ wholehearted support and belief. That, and the fact he’d graduated from RADA with a first. Following that, he’d gone from strength to strength.

“Come on, Theo,” he muttered to himself. “You can do this. It’s just another role. A role you can play. Can be.”

His solo pep talk was interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel. Then, from behind a line of expertly done topiary appeared a young man, perhaps a few years Theo’s junior.

“Oh,” the other man said, slowing as he spotted Theo, “sorry. Didn’t know anyone would be out here. You’re not filming, are you?” He looked around for cameras. “I was told it wouldn’t be for a few days, give me time to finish—”

Theo cut him off. “Relax, mate, there’s no filming today. Not anywhere. The crew are still setting things up.”

The other man heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s all right then. Gave me a fright, that did. I need to make sure everything’s spot on in the gardens before they get rolling. So, what’s the star of the show doing out here by himself, anyway?”

Theo gave a wry grin. “Oh, I don’t know about star.”

The man made a scoffing sound. Then, “That’s not what I’ve heard. I’m Eddie, by the way. Eddie Henderson.”

Theo took the hand that was offered, and shook it. “Theodore Samuels. Theo. Nice to meet you.”

“You too. So, you never answered my question. Everything all right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Theo said with a shrug. “Just nerves, I think. I’m struggling to get into the right mindset for this character. But I’ve got a couple of days—so I won’t panic just yet. Actually,” he paused as a bright idea illuminated his brain, “could I ask you something?”

Eddie took a seat beside Theo on the bench, and it was only when they were up close and personal that he realised just how handsome the younger man was. He had a lightly-muscled build, ginger hair, a riot of freckles on his face and forearms, blue-green eyes and a slight gap between his two front teeth. Cute and sexy all at once. Christ, he’s going to be trouble.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9